Monthly Archives: May 2010

May 31, 2010 · 9:49 am

Holiday rituals

I logged in to the Internet this morning and saw Comcast’s Memorial Day Quiz on my home page.  I took it, in part because I wanted to write about Memorial Day today and I thought it might provide some ideas.  I scored 58 out of 150.  I am the first to admit I am not great at history.  But in my defense, I was distracted by all the typos in the questions.  I then took it again.  Different questions, fewer typos, but still…Star Spanged Banner, Arlington Cemetary, rememberance.   This time I scored 148.

Memorial Day means different things to different people.  For my husband and me, it used to be all about Dewey Beach.

I commemorated the holiday yesterday.  In church I joined in prayers for those who have given their lives in service to our country, and their families.  I thought of the American teenagers who have died in war these last nine years, and prayed for their mothers.  I joined in singing Eternal Father, Strong to Save, also known as the United States Navy Hymn, which asks protection of those serving on land and sea and in the air. 

Then I went home and had a barbeque.

Today I will partake in another important Memorial Day ritual:  taking out my white pants and shoes.  I know this news will elicit snickers from family members in Arizona who have been wearing white since March.  Anyone who knows me is aware I am an etiquette purist.  Pathologically compliant.  For me, living on the edge means wearing white on the Sunday before Memorial Day, but never past Labor Day.  I won’t even wear spectators outside the Memorial-to-Labor Day window.

I believe etiquette makes our lives easier by providing a clear framework for our behavior and lifting responsibility for making decisions about such matters.

In the movie Serial Mom, which stars Kathleen Turner (and my Aunt Patsy), a Martha Stewart-like homemaker brutally murders those who commit simple etiquette violations, such as smacking gum, stealing a parking space and not rewinding a video rental.  In her final act, she slaughters Patty Hearst for wearing white shoes after Labor Day.

See, I just wouldn’t want to risk the consequences.

Happy Memorial Day.

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May 29, 2010 · 7:59 am

Not a mute point

Are there certain words that, when you hear them mispronounced, send you into orbit? 

I know there are because you’ve told me.

I have a few of my own.  I’ve already vented about Pulitzer and nuclear. 

At the risk of seeming snobbish, I am forever tempted to let people know when they’ve mispronounced a word but then, as I pointed out in one of my early posts, these suggestions are not always received as the gifts they were intended to be.

I decided to jot down a few of my own and then check them against a list of the 100 most mispronounced words and phrases in the English language.

This exercise led to a couple of findings:  First, I am not alone.  Most of my peeves, but not all, were on the list.  Second,  I pronounce a few words and phrases  incorrectly myself.

My initial list of pronunciation peeves included:

  • jewelry when pronounced jewlery
  • realtor when pronounced relator
  • espresso when pronounced expresso
  • nuptials when pronounced nuptuals

And yes! Sherbert is on the list.

The first source I consulted, yourdictionary.com, also includes on its list some irritating misuses, such as such as orientate and interpretate.  I was surprised administrate was not on the list.  I hear that one a lot.  How about supposably?  Reoccur instead of recur?  It’s a mute point, when it should be moot?

I was surprised slep was not on the list, as in I slep poorly last night.  Or I kep it a secret.  And I was really surprised not to find hunnert; you know, dial a one-eight-hunnert number.

There are also a few incorrect phrases that tend to slip by, so I like that they’re on the list:

  • blessing in the skies
  • carpool tunnel syndrome  (I suppose there could be such a thing)
  • doggy dog world
  • for all intensive purposes

 Words and phrases I learned I’ve been butchering for years:

  • Clothes.  I say close but just learned (and my son says it correctly), the th is pronounced.
  • Spit and image.  I always thought it was spitting image.  Huh.
  • Champ at the bit.  I know it’s champ but sometimes I still forget and say chomp.
  • Pernickety.  I’ve always thought it was persnickety. 

If I had any authority, I’d declare today National Correct Pronunciation Day.  As I’ve discovered, a refresher wouldn’t hurt any of us.  There are plenty of websites out there that highlight common and comical mispronunciations.  So I urge you to go out there and read.  Then send me your top pronunciation peeve and one mispronunciation you’ll own up to. 

Spread the word.  Raising awareness is the first step.

Word Nymph will take tomorrow off.  She’ll be clipping coupons from the Sunday paper.  That’s coo-pons, not Q-pons.  I don’t mean to be pernickety.

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May 28, 2010 · 8:30 am

Heaven’s house party

I woke up yesterday to the news of the passing of Art Linkletter and suddenly the world felt a little less good.

It’s hard to think of someone who gave so much to so many just by being himself, a bit reserved in the background, while spotlighting the world’s funniest entertainers—young children.

Those of my generation grew up watching House Party but we didn’t entirely get what was so funny until we were grown.   What a treat it was to watch Art Linkletter with my son when in 1998 CBS introduced Kids Say the Darndest Things, hosted by Bill Cosby, on which Linkletter made occasional appearances.

Art Linkletter lived to be 97, was married 74 years and outlived three out of five of his children. 

There is plenty to read about his interesting life, much of which was news to me.  So pick up yesterday’s paper or go online and you’ll surely be as warmed—yet sad—as I.

What I especially loved was something he wrote in a reprint of one of his books:  “Children under ten and women over seventy give the best interviews for the identical reason: they speak the plain unvarnished truth.”

Now if Bill Cosby lives to 97, I’ll feel better.

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May 27, 2010 · 8:06 am

Golden anniversary

Today is Word Nymph’s 50th blog post.  I never thought I’d have that much to say.

Milestones are good occasions to look back. 

In 50 blog posts I have learned:

  • Readers have as many peeves and curiosities as I do when it comes to language.  The ones they would like to explore further include “less” versus “fewer,” “use” versus “utilize,” “that” versus “who” and “that” versus “which,”  among others.
  • Most readers don’t take themselves or me too seriously, which is the object of the game here, though occasionally someone does school me with pronounced severity.
  • The search phrases leading to my blog (which I can see on the back end) are, shall we say, interesting.   I definitely underestimated the overall interest in anything nymphish.  Also, there are far more people interested in that silly mayonnaise commercial than I would have thought.  And far fewer people writing about it.  Hence, I might soon attain the title of Mayo Queen.  Thank you, Kraft!
  • I really shouldn’t blog before coffee.

Also on the occasion of this milestone, here’s what I’d like my readers to know:

  • If you see a typo in a post, check back later.  Chances are that it’s been fixed.  After the aforementioned coffee.
  • I appreciate your indulging this experiment of mine.  More than anything, your participation is what makes it fun. 

I hope you’ll stick around.

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May 26, 2010 · 7:38 am

The rest nest

Last night my husband and I spent two hours gazing into our future.  At the end of the two hours, we signed up for Long Term Care insurance.

The timing of the meeting with our insurance agent wasn’t ideal; and in retrospect, should not have been scheduled so soon after the Golden Girls experience I had just days ago.

In two hours’ time, we saw ourselves a decade or two, maybe three, in the future, when statistically, one or both of us will no longer be able to function independently, or inter-dependently. 

While the agent and my husband were crunching numbers, I visited a place where I was hunched over my walker, or maybe puzzled and doodling all over my checkbook or lying at the foot of the basement stairs with a broken hip.  Or, knowing me, walking away from blazing stove burners long after the pots have come off. 

Then, while those two pored over actuarial and premium tables, I traveled to Florida, to an upscale assisted living facility, and watched myself playing Scrabble.  My husband was out on the lanai, comfortable in a rocker, alternately grinning and dozing.  A musical group came into the dining room and performed a Sheryl Crow medley and the score from Mamma Mia.

One thing I know as I contemplate the long term care scenario is that we must do away with the word “facility.”  If I am going to one, it can’t be a facility.   It must be something fuzzier.

We were bound to tackle euphemisms here someday, so we might as well start now.

I am not going to an assisted living facility.  Where am I going?

According to the blog of Entertaining Euphemisms, it’s a “wellness and vitality residence” or “continuum of care lifestyle community.”

Pretty good.  Can you do better?

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May 25, 2010 · 8:11 am

The princess bribe

Sarah, honey, how could you do it?  As those of us here in Washington, D.C. could have told you, money for influence is a tricky notion, one that usually doesn’t reflect well in headlines, not to mention on hidden camera.

But you appeared on video, soliciting large sums in exchange for access to your influential ex-husband.  It was painful to watch, especially for you.

Next time, maybe you’ll consider all those who’ve looked up to you all these years.  Think of the children whose parents read them Budgie the Little Helicopter—which by the way, our son loved.  My husband and I used to hide Budgie on nights when we were too tired to read it (it was a little long) but our son always found it and brought it to us beggingly.  You were a part of us even then.

Think of all of us whom you inspired with your Weight Watchers commercials.  The way you pronounced Weight Wohchahs lent sophistication to our point-counting.

We looked up to you and yet you were a duchess we could relate to, with your struggles with weight and overindulgence, and those unflattering swimsuit shots.  We rooted for you when the tabloids exposed your troubles.  But this latest misstep has put your supporters in one sticky wicket.

We understand that, financially, you have fallen on hard times.  There, there, dear.  Come join me for two-for-one night at Ruby Tuesday and we’ll work through it.  That is, if you don’t end up doing hard porridge in the chokey.

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May 24, 2010 · 8:03 am

Golden Girls

About 20 years ago, I worked in an office with an extraordinary group of people, many of whom were women my age.

When you spend more than a third of your day with the same people, you become close.  These women and I had our children together and, in the ensuing years, we shared everything–the challenges of working and rearing children,  strategies for making it through each day with our sanity, recipes, more laughs than can be counted and oceans of tears.  Some of these women have passed on, a sad reality that has brought the rest of us even closer.

Once, in the office lunch room, I suggested that maybe someday we would all live together, like the Golden Girls, which was at the height of its run on television.  I painted a picture of us sharing a house in Florida, driving around in a big convertible, with our head scarves tied tightly beneath our sagging chins.

In The Golden Girls series, which ran from 1985 to 1992, the characters played by Bea Arthur, Betty White and Rue McClanahan were in their early 50s.  Estelle Getty played Sophia, who was 70, tops.

The day before yesterday, I had lunch with three of my old girlfriends.  It hit me then that we had, alas, become the Golden Girls.

After settling in according to who needed to sit on which side of whose good ear, many parts of the conversation still had to be repeated.  There was, after all, background noise in the restaurant.

Next came the organ recital.  We discussed our health screenings, what conditions are plaguing us, which body parts ache and what meds we take.  We talked about our feet, debating which are worse, problems with the plantar or those of the metatarsal.

We talked about our emptying nests and commiserated about all it has taken to help our hatchlings fly on their own.  We also heard what it’s like to have an adult child move back home with all of her children.

We heard news of parents and more former colleagues who had passed.

We acknowledged the challenges of dwindling incomes and investments and compared notes on which chain restaurants offer two-for-one entrees on which weeknights.

We laughed at all the old lady behaviors we’ve adopted, such as finding a blouse we like and buying it in every color.

I shared that I had recently bought half a pie.

What brought our lunch to a close was a conversation about television–what shows we like and the fact that you can now can get TV programming through Netflix, which streams through the Wii. 

That was it.  Just the idea of “streaming through the Wii” sent us rushing to the ladies’ room, where we shared a final laugh and called it a day.

I haven’t bothered to take the Which Sex and the City Girl Are You quiz that’s going around in anticipation of the new movie.

Instead, I will start my own quiz and ask my peers to consider:  Which Golden Girl are you?

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May 22, 2010 · 8:06 am

Justice I am, without one plea

I am feeling a little Andy Rooneyish today.  I can almost hear him narrating this post.

Last month, I was handed a uniform traffic citation outside my home state.  Because there is a court date looming, I realize I am taking a risk by blogging about it.  But I can’t resist.

To recap, a state trooper pulled me over for driving 69 miles per hour in a 55 mile-per-hour zone.  Then he wrote me a ticket for 70 mph, which could have consequences beyond a simple fine.

Following this incident, I received letters from seven of that state’s law firms, pitching their services in helping me get the charge reduced or dismissed.

I finally sat down and combed through all the letters.  The first one hit me with its rash of unnecessary quotation marks, so I decided one way I’d sort the letters would be to weed out those that didn’t pass the Word Nymph test. 

Here’s where Andy Rooney comes in.  Just picture him sitting there behind his cluttered desk, amidst the open envelopes, letters and the waivers they all come with (in case you haven’t been so fortunate as to receive one).

The first letter comes from a “Community Oriented Law Firm.”  In quotes, but no mention of who said it.

The second claims, I am not a Big City law firm.  Is this supposed to be a selling point?  Or is Big City a municipality in that state?

The third letter talks about fines for running a Stop Sign or Red Light.  Capitalized.

The fourth displays the following tagline below the firm name:  honoring Him by serving those with legal challenges in our community with integrity and excellence.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The fifth one touts its postage-paid envelope for sending back the waiver:  No stamp necessary!  Exclamation point! Wow, if this saves me 44 cents, then they’ve got MY business.

The sixth letter went straight to the bottom of the stack for twice using the obnoxious parenthetical numeral.  That’s in case you wouldn’t otherwise know  – Traffic offenses generally cause insurance points to be assessed against you that will result in increased premiums for a period of three (3) years.  For example, premiums can be doubled for a traffic violation that carries four (4) points.   I’m glad they made that clear, as I was absent the day they taught us how to spell numbers.

The seventh letter begins a paragraph with, If you have not already plead guilty…  Isn’t it pled?  Or pleaded?

The reality is that, if I choose to obtain legal representation, I place my fate in the hands of one of these firms.  And I do so humbly because I am being charged with a violation that has nothing whatsoever to do with grammar or punctuation.  Traffic law is the great equalizer.

Anyone out there have a cousin Vinny?

Word Nymph will resume on Monday, after spending Sunday asking forgiveness for her irreverent headline.

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May 21, 2010 · 7:50 am

They is wrong

According to the Fake AP Stylebook’s April 21 Facebook post:  “Avoid using masculine pronouns in sentences where the subject’s gender is not specified.  Broads find it offensive.”

What this broad finds offensive is the subject/pronoun disagreement that often occurs as a result of a writer’s attempt at political correctness.

I am a firm believer that political correctness and grammatical correctness are not mutually exclusive.  (Though if I did have to choose?  Hmmm.)

It is incorrect to suggest that “everyone have their say” or “the winner deserves their prize.”  In these instances, because the subject is singular,“their” should be “his.”   “He” and “his” are considered gender neutral, even though they are masculine pronouns.  For those sensitive to gender equity in grammar, “his or her” is perfectly acceptable.  Or,  if we know that the subject, say “winner” in the earlier example, is female, we may say “the winner deserves her prize.  “Their” is just plain wrong.

Also, remember that “everyone” is singular, even though it sounds like a lot of people.  Every one.   So please do not say “everyone is entitled to their opinion.”  

I recently stumbled on a blog that claims to specialize in writing.  I won’t call out the blogger by name because I know how hard it is to churn out copy day after day, and I am the first to admit that, in so doing, I make mistakes regularly. There is a difference between making a mistake and deliberately breaking a well-known rule.

The blogger wrote this week, “It helps a writer’s ego as well as their ability to write if they have peers to read and give feedback on their work.” 

The writer is a “he” or a “she,” not a “they;” otherwise, it would be “writers’ egos” and “writers’ work,” plural.  And if the choice is to go plural possessive, please note where the apostrophe goes.

Six days earlier, the same blogger wrote:  “Everyone has read a bit of bad prose or poetry in their life and access to the Internet seems to make it easier to point out other’s grammatical and spelling errors as well as their downright awful writing in general.”

Oh, really?

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May 20, 2010 · 7:41 am

Ambush advertising

The new Kraft mayonnaise commercial is not only entertaining but extremely clever.

Have you seen it?  It’s a takeoff on the Extreme Makeover shows.  The wife was always making tiny finger sandwiches, like the ones you’d have at high tea, and the husband was forlorn.  Kraft bursts in and does an extreme sandwich makeover with its new seasoned mayo and an oversized roll, and the result moves both husband and wife to tears.

Advertising Age ran a story earlier this year on Kraft’s push to step up its marketing strategy following the company’s acquisition of Cadbury.  Kraft has produced some pretty memorable ads over the years.  Remember the famous “And I helped!” for Shake and Bake? Ad Age points out that the company continues to wear a bit of a down-home label when it comes to its commercials.

Twenty-four years ago, Neil Postman wrote Amusing Ourselves to Death:  Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business, in which he discussed how television and other entertainment media spill over into politics and public dialogue.  Even after 24 years, while the entertainment media are vastly transformed, a point Postman made regarding television advertising holds true today, as Kraft proves in its Sandwich Makeover campaign:  “What the advertiser needs to know is not what is right about the product but what is wrong about the buyer.”

What better way is there than an ambush makeover to make a consumer feel bad enough about herself to run right out and buy mayonnaise?

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